Too Much and Not Enough
by Dragon'sHost
Summary: A collection of semi-related one-shots for the girl and boy with too much heart and the boy and girl with not enough.
1. Chapter 1

**While writing this prompt for Filiiadcorblog, I realized that all of my Gowther x Jericho and Guila x Hauser drabbles sort of fit into the same AU. So here is my dumping ground for that AU.**

 **I really, really like this pairing. It snuck up on me somehow.**

 **I hereby dub it Jerither, for my own ease.**

 **To clarify, though, this basically takes place after the current manga arc where Meliodas is fighting the Ten Commandments in Vaizel. Jericho at this point in time still has no clue what actually transpired in regards to Gowther and Guila.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own NNT.**

* * *

 _ **Title: I Do Not Understand**_

 _ **Requested by: Filiiadcorblog**_

 _ **Prompt: "I'm Sorry" kiss**_

* * *

Gowther pushed his glasses up his nose as he surveyed the damaged area. "Seems it all turned out alright," he observed, making a pose.

The knight standing beside him nearly combusted at his blasé attitude towards the devastation. "What do you mean, 'it all turned out alright'?!" Jericho gestured widely at the crumbling labyrinth walls, scorched hillsides, and upturned earth that was the aftermath of Meliodas' fight with the Ten Commandments. "How can you call _this_ alright?"

Tilting his head, Gowther peered at Jericho quizzically. "But didn't the knights tear this same area up at the last fighting competition?" he pointed out.

Jericho felt as if she'd been stabbed in the gut.

"If memory serves, Guila rained gigantic fireballs down on the citizens..."

 _Stab._

"A new chasm opened up..."

 _Stab._

"Oh, right. Ban made a dent in the hillside, and Diane rearranged the topography some more from what I've heard so I suppose in all fairness it was partly our fault too." Gowther paused, and then added, "But then again, that was due to the knights putting up Diane's sacred treasure as bait to draw them here, so in the end it still becomes the fault of the Holy Knights."

 _Stab._

"Didn't some civilians die?"

 _Stab._

"Come to think of it, I also heard that you participated in that attack?"

That was the final nail in her coffin.

Gowther stared down at Jericho. "Why are you on the ground?"

Jericho sobbed, collapsed amongst the rubble. "Please, no more!"

The Goat Sin of Lust crouched in front of her. "Why are you crying? Is it the weight of your guilty conscience?"

She let out an inarticulate, high pitched noise, somewhere between a scream and sob that died halfway out of her throat.

"I'll take that as an affirmative."

"You're really horrible!" Jericho told him.

"So I've been told. Numerous times."

Jericho met the doll's gaze, droplets of sweat beading on her forehead. "You don't sound the least bit sorry about it."

"Should I?" Gowther questioned, sounding genuinely curious. "Would you prefer I apologize even if I don't mean it?"

"Of course not!" she bit back.

"Then what's the problem?"

"I don't want you to do that!" Jericho insisted.

Gowther's stare bored into her. "Why not? Isn't it what you want to hear? That I'm sorry?"

"I want you to _mean it!_ "

"But that isn't going to happen," he pointed out. "So wouldn't it be better to hear it? If you perceive it as the truth, doesn't that effectively make it true for you? I could even alter your memories to make it the truth."

Jericho grit her teeth. "You're wrong. It's still different."

He frowned outright at that, his brow furrowed and his stare uncomprehending. "...I do not understand. Just like what happened with Guila," Gowther stated. "I do not... understand."

Those words hung in the air between them. She didn't know if it was just her imagination, or wishful thinking, but they did not ring with the same tone as the others to Jericho. They'd been spoken with the same levelness as the rest of his speech, but... somehow they felt very lonely to her. She hung her head and groaned. Then she reached out a hand towards him. "Help me up, would you?"

Obliging, he grasped her calloused, tanned hand in his far more delicate-seeming pale one, easily hauling Jericho to her feet.

They stood there silently next to each other.

Jericho shifted uncomfortably, not used to the quiet. "You have a lot of things you should be sorry for," she said. When she wanted, she could be just as blunt as he. "But not understanding isn't one of them." Jericho grimaced. "If that makes any sense."

"It doesn't." Gowther paused, observing Jericho's flinch. "But thank you, anyway."

Sweat ran down the side of her face. "...Do you even mean that?"

"Not really."

Jericho let out a scream of frustration, pulling on her hair. "Aaaargh! I really can't deal with you!"

"I thought you said wanted the truth," Gowther said. "Did you change your mind?"

"No! I want the truth to change!" she fumed.

"Now you're just being childish."

She let out another indignant howl. "I give up! There's just no arguing with you! Let's just kiss and make up and go or _something_. I'm sure the others are-"

Her words were abruptly cut off, as the Sin stepped into her personal space. Gently, he grasped her face and pulled it to his.

Gowther's lips were cool against hers, and unyielding. Smooth, where hers were chapped. Deep in shock, Jericho didn't even twitch, much less make a move to respond. Not that she would have, even if she could.

When he drew back, so too did her fist. Then socked him in the jaw with all the strength she could muster; enough force to spin his head around violently until it faced the wrong way.

"It's just a turn of phrase!" she shouted, face turning beet red. "I didn't mean that you should _actually_ kiss me!"

Reaching up, Gowther twisted his head back to its former position. "Oh. I will keep that in mind."

Jericho promptly stalked off, muttering under her breath. "No wonder he's the sin of lust! I don't blame Guila for breaking up with him!"

Gowther stared after her as she left.

"I'm sorry," he said to the empty air. And then he began to follow the knight, picking his way across the ruined land. Thinking it was a shame that she hadn't heard it.

Because this time... he might have meant it.


	2. Chapter 2

**I should probably clarify that probably these won't be in order. Ever.**

 **Also, I changed the spelling from Hauser to Howser. Sorry for any confusion.**

 **I dub this ship Howuila. Howuila and Jerither. Hooray for crackship otp land.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own NNT.**

* * *

 _ **Title: Blue Eyes**_

 _ **Requested by: boogey56**_

 ** _Prompt: "No wonder the sky is grey today, all the blue is in your eyes."_**

* * *

An excellent sparring match, Howser," Guila said, lowering her lance. "It was most informative."

Her fellow Knight grinned at her. A compliment from Guila was a rare treat, and he couldn't help but feel excited. "Really?"

She nodded, her smile like that of a fox. "Indeed. Now I know where your weak points are for next time."

The air rushed out of Howser's lungs at Guila's calm statement, as if her words had physically punched it out of him. As ever, her tongue was her most deadly weapon. "Good to know," he wheezed.

Guila tilted her head at him. "Are you feeling quite alright? You appear ill. It wouldn't do to exhaust yourself when the weather is like this - you'll catch sick more easily."

Howser let out a weak laugh. "No wonder the sky is grey today. All the blue is in your eyes."

Guila froze, staring blankly at Howser.

Likewise, Howser was rooted to the spot, sweat nervously pouring down his neck. _'Why in Brittania did I say that?!'_ he thought furiously. _'That wasn't what I meant to say!'_ Had he just flirted with her? Oh no, he'd just flirted with her. His junior. His friend. The monster that liked to make things and people explode for even the slightest grievances. How does one _accidentally_ flirt, anyway?!

She smiled at him, then, and it looked far different from her normal fox-grin. It seemed… a little softer. The same look she usually reserved for Zeal, and Zeal alone. "Why thank you, Howser."

The man let out a sigh of relief. She had chosen to spare him.

"How does he even know what color her eyes are?" Gowther inquired, on a nearby bench with Jericho. "They're never open wide enough to see."

Jericho elbowed the doll sharply in the side. "Shut up, they're having a moment."

He pushed his glasses up. "Oh, of the romantic variety, I take it."

"Yes." Sometimes Jericho wondered if was actually as oblivious as he seemed to be, or if he was leading her around by the nose.

Gowther considered the pair standing awkwardly on the training field. After a moment, Gowther stood up. "I should observe more closely, then."

As he advanced on the pair of Holy Knights - to indeed observe as closely as he possibly could - Jericho grabbed the back of his shirt and hauled him back down onto the bench, at her side. "Oh no, you don't. You get to stay right here."

Where he couldn't cause any trouble.

Or rather... where he would cause less trouble.

Probably.

Jericho hoped.

Meanwhile, Howser and Guila had still not budged.

This was getting painful to watch.

Thankfully, the flinty skies chose that moment to release its waters and attempt to drown them all.

Residual awkwardness banished, all four individuals retreated indoors.


	3. Chapter 3

**Filiiadcorblog requested a platonic drabble of Jericho, Howser, and Guila for the prompt: picnic. I will probably expand on this in the next chapter.**

* * *

Guila smiled like a fox as she presented two closed envelopes to her sparring partners after a long day's training. "Jericho, Howser, these are for you."

Jericho eyed her offering warily. Though she considered the other Holy Knight a dear friend, this was rather out of character for the ever-smiling woman. Sparring and shopping with Guila regularly was one thing. Being presented with what was clearly an invitation - was the damned thing perfumed?! - had her slightly on edge.

Howser did not seem to share Jericho's reservations. "What's this?" he asked, taking the envelope and peering at it in curiosity. "An invitation to something? That's a first from you."

Guila's smile only widened, the creases around her eyes deepening. But not in mirth.

Swiftly taking her own envelope from Guila's grasp, Jericho opened it up and scanned the contents. Confused, she met Guila's gaze. "You're inviting us to a picnic?"

"Now I know I'm hallucinating," Howser stated.

Letting out a light laugh, Guila shook her head. "The invitation is not from me - I am merely the messenger. Zeal is the one that made the invitations. He wished to invite my friends to join us in our usual tea party." She paused, and then added, "You won't turn him down… will you?"

Jericho and Howser shook their heads rapidly, sweat beading on their foreheads.

"Be happy to come!" Jericho said. "I love seeing Zeal!"

"Yeah, same here," Howser chipped in. "We never turn down an invitation from Zeal. Right, Jericho?"

"Right!"

Guila's face relaxed slightly. "Excellent. I shall let him know to expect you tomorrow afternoon. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to prepare supper for him."

Once she was out of sight, and the immediate threat abated, Jericho and Howser released identical signs of relief.

"That was nerve-wracking," Howser confided to Jericho.

"Agreed."


	4. Chapter 4

**This is a continuation of the previous chapter for Filiiadcorblog. I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

Picnic preparations were almost complete by the time Guila heard her friends knocking at the door to her home. "I'll get it!" she heard Zeal call out, his feet thudding against the floor loudly as he ran through the house.

"No running indoors!" Guila reminded her brother, wiping her hands clean with a towel. She then folded a cloth over the top of the two baskets sitting on the kitchen counter. It had been a slight struggle to get all of the food they would need ready. All three of the Holy Knights had monstrous appetites, thanks to the enormous toll their magic took on their bodies, and Zeal was a growing young boy who could almost match his sister in terms of the volume of sustenance his body required.

She heard her brother greeting their guests, and she shook her head slightly. Zeal hadn't heard a word she'd said, had he? No matter, Guila decided. It was a forgivable offense in his excitement. It wasn't every day that he got to spend time with any of the Holy Knights outside his sister, after all.

Even if she was tentatively friends with Gilthunder, Howser, and Jericho, Guila wasn't overly fond of bringing her brother around the training fields or castle. Such a place was far too dangerous for him, and she couldn't afford to lose him. Also, if any harm accidentally befell Zeal, she knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself from exacting violent, bloody revenge on the spot.

But a picnic in the nearby meadow? Guila thought she could handle that.

"Welcome!" she greeted Howser and Jericho as they timidly entered the kitchen, shown the way by a far more enthusiastic Zeal. Without waiting for their response, she shoved the baskets into their arms. "Allow me to change out of my apron first, and then we'll be on our way."

Howser eyed the cloth suspiciously, as she tugged at the strings to undo it. "That's pretty frilly."

"It's cute," Jericho added, without thinking.

Hanging the apron up on its hook, Guila smiled fondly at them. "Thank you. It was a gift from Zeal."

The boy beamed in pride. "Picked out because it suits her so well."

There wasn't much they could say to that. Although both were far more familiar with the version of Guila that involved a rapier headed for their vulnerable parts, neither could say that they disliked the more feminine, domestic version of her that came out around her brother.

It had also made an appearance during her… ill-fated, short relationship with Gowther. However… unlike then, when it gave Jericho a severe case of the heebie jeebies, it felt much more natural now.

Howser leaned in close to Jericho, and whispered in her ear, "Have you ever seen her like this before? Cause this is a first for me."

With a half-shrug of her shoulder, Jericho whispered back, "Kind of."

The lancer digested this information thoughtfully. "It's kind of weird."

"What's weird?"

A chill ran through Howser's spine at the frigid words rolling off of Guila's tongue. Her smile could sheer straight through an iceberg. Zeal, for his part, seemed to notice nothing amiss with his sister's demeaner, but the other two were resisting the urge to back away slowly.

"Uh…" Howser fumbled, not great with coming up with excuses on the spot.

Jericho, also not a pro with it, offered, "The… the weather! The weather's been pretty weird lately, so we're glad it was sunny enough for the picnic today!"

"I know, right?!" Zeal said. "I think it actually hailed the other day."

Neither Jericho nor Howser would be surprised if it suddenly started snowing indoors, what with the dark intent radiating from their friend.

Then Howser caught a whiff of the baskets' contents, and all concerns over Guila's dangerous mood abruptly dissipated. "Hey, do I smell chicken in here?!"

After a split second's hesitation, Guila nodded. "Yes. I recalled you saying you were fond of it. I have also included fresh strawberries, for Jericho."

Tears gathered in their eyes, greatly alarming Guila.

"Thank you so much," they blubbered together, deeply touched by her consideration.

Flustered by their happiness, Guila stammered incoherently, as Zeal looked on with a grin on his face.

He was so happy that his sister had such great friends in her life.


End file.
